Musings of a Thru-Hiker

By Gary Shealy


Big Spring Mountain


    Morning finally came. After stopping short the night before, I was anxious to hit hit the trail. Huff and Puff and the Florida Flyers were in striking distance the day before. My feet were sore, my ankles somewhat tender, and my face was beginning to itch- it felt like a bug bite, perhaps I slept on a spider? Breakfast was quiet, and by the time the others were rising I was packing my gear. After returning from some of my morning chores, the Orlando boys had started fixing pancakes again. I just had to get going now, the smell of hotcakes only tormented my senses. I finished my chores, dutifully brushing my teeth with baking soda, vainly struggling to remove the gummy remanents of another oatmeal breakfast. The taste stood fast.
    Slow Poke drew his first waking breathes through the filter of another Marlboro. He was still in his bag fighting off sleepiness amongst the rising banter and commotion of the Orlando boys. They could have been brothers. Their bickering started with the first morning yawns, and no doubt would continue throughout the day and through the rest of their hike. Clearly there are some benefits to traveling alone.
    I awkwardly interjected my parting remarks. Slow Poke asked why I was not eating any breakfast. Without turning to answer I just waved over my pack. The bickering resumed afresh as my departure apparently opened an old wound. Part of the threesome thought that the others wasted too much time and required too long to get started in the morning. Their conversation faded as I started into the woods.
    Around mid-morning I crossed a gravel road with a small parking area and trash can. A full-size Chevy truck and a small late model foreign car shared the area. I passed around the truck, and decided to check out the mirror. I was careful not to change the position of the mirror, and had to strain to see the right side of my face. Wow! poison ivy. It wasn't a bug bite after all. It was a nice case of ivy too. From the looks of it I must have been nursing it for several days. It was oozing and blistering with a redish-pink fringe closing in on my eye. I intended to bring cortisone, prescription strength, for just such an occasion, but somehow I forgot. It was just as well, the eye is sensitive, and most medical professionals do not like treating that area with topical cortisone. Just as well, Yeah Right! Now I am stuck in the woods with a first class case of the ivy causing my eye to swell shut, and I have absolutely nothing to treat it. For me, untreated cases only get worse.
    I emptied my trash, as the owner of the truck showed up. He attempted to distract me so that I would not notice his companion pulling her pants up in the bushes about thirty feet away. I strapped my pack on and wandered off telling them both to watch out for poison ivy and snakes. They assured me they would be careful. Soon the weight of the pack and the rhythm of the hike weighed more than my worries over poison ivy.
    I stopped for lunch on a log and could hear turkey off below the ridge. After removing my boots, socks, and spreading out lunch, I set up a cup of tea to brew in the sun. In addition to the caffeine pickup, tea also helps to clean the lunch dishes. I wedged my pack against the tree stump and leaned into it. The position was somewhat awkward but pleasant. My feet were elevated and felt better as the blood began to drain from them. Perched on the log bathed in the warm sun, I started in on cheese and crackers, went on to peanut butter and crackers, and about forty-five minutes later realized that I had consumed several days worth of food. Not Good. My gluttony would no doubt cause me to go hungry a few days later. I could have kicked myself. I finished the sun tea, packed lunch away, flicking a few errant ants off of my legs, and ambled down the trail. That afternoon I crossed a few streams that would come together somewhere further south to form the headwaters of a navigable river, here however, they were insignificant except for a steady trickle.
    After seventeen miles on the day, I camped. It was Sunday, and Sunday is a day of rest. Ed Garvey was shuttled into town for church, lunch, shower, etc.. Each person hikes a different hike. Huff and Puff, the Florida Flyers, et. al. probably pushed on to Big Spring Mountain or further. My ankles were swollen some(okay, a lot ), and my ivy was really beginning to itch in the humid, sweaty heat. I took aspirin, applied cold compresses, and elevated my feet whenever possible. I will prop them up tonight on my pack, sort of like being in traction at a hospital. It may be necessary to take a day off, for my eye anyway; I can still see out of it although my vision is somewhat blurred.
I can hear my bear bags swinging in the wind. It is really not necessary to hang them this far south, is it? I did not do a very good job; they were too low. Tonight I will leave the tent flaps up for added ventilation to reduce the condensation inside the tent. So far I have stayed in only two shelters. Chris was right in advising not to scrimp on a tent, "...a small fly may keep some rain off, but it will be miserable when it rains for three days." Should have remembered the cortisone. It is starting to drizzle and getting dark; I hope I don't regret leaving the flaps up.

Peace,
Slim

Copyright 1991-2000, all rights reserved

This is a fictional account of an actual Thru-Hike in 1990. Any resemblance to specific individuals or events is purely coincidental.